DISCLAIMER: I (unfortunately) don't own Harry Potter or make any profit from fanfiction writing.
WARNING: Rape, dark themes and language.
Snape sighed solemnly and stared at his untouched glass of ruby red wine. It was well into the late hours of a cold October night at the Malfoy Manor. All of the other Death Eaters in attendance of the impromptu party were inebriated and clambering about like wild animals, shooting sparks and spells out their wands, boasting loudly and drunkenly spilling their firewhiskey over each other. Lord Voldemort was at his most powerful and Death Eaters had been running rampant, spreading fear and reveling in the victory. Snape tugged on the sleeve concealing the Dark Mark he had been branded with the previous year right before his eighteenth birthday. Lately, he had been getting an uneasy feeling that the others were beginning to notice his reluctance to participate in their festivities. Even though he was on the winning side, he had begun to seriously question his choices that were made out of spite and anger. Snape was grateful for the protection, companionship and power that came along with being a Death Eater but he was concerned that when the time came, he would not be able to do whatever heinous act was expected of him and he would be killed for it. Snape knew he was far from a saint but he didn't think he was as monstrous as some of the characters he had formed an alliance with in his last years at Hogwarts.
Snape was half way through mentally fabricating a good enough excuse to leave and retire to his small apartment and read a new Potions text that he'd purchased earlier that day when Lord Voldemort himself strode into the dining room with an air that made the rowdy crowd fall silent.
"Don't stop the celebrations on my account," he said swishing his cloak aside to take a seat opposite Snape who was the only one presently seated. "For there is plenty to celebrate tonight, friends."
Snape fumbled with his wine glass stem nervously as he felt the Dark Lord appraising him with a sinister smirk.
"Not in the festive spirits, young Severus?" Voldemort enquired with a crooked smile.
"No, I mean, yes, my lord, of course, just taking a rest, my lord," Snape stumbled over his words, shocked at being addressed by the Dark Lord himself. Snape, however recent, had served Voldemort faithfully in the small time he had been a Death Eater but had not proven his dedication as much to be given any kind of preferential treatment or personal consideration.
"I have a something of a gift for you, Severus. Something to lift your spirits."
"A…gift, my lord?" Snape asked shakily not at all being settled by the sinister expression of Voldemort.
"Dolohov," Voldemort said snapping his fingers at the door way where Dolohov emerged.
He was not alone. He was dragging a body behind him by the hood of their robes and forced the person to their knees at Snape's feet. With the shuffling of feet and clinking of glass, the tipsy Death Eaters gathered around curiously. With a coaxing nod from the Dark Lord, Snape leaned forward and threw the hood back. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the wavy dark red hair of his one true love. There was a fleeting moment of heart soaring joy that was quickly extinguished by spine chilling fear. She shouldn't be here.
"Lily?" he choked out softly raising her chin up with his finger. He let out a small gasp and his chest tightened. There was a slightly swollen split in her beautiful rose petal lips and the shadow of a bruise was beginning to blossom under her pale skin. He brushed his thumb over the deep gash across her cheekbone horrified. Despite her appearing half unconscious, she reluctantly looked up at him through her eyelashes and her striking emerald eyes were seething with so much hate he recoiled slightly. She groggily tried to bat his hand off of her chin.
"We found some of Dumbledore's scum at an Order meeting," Voldemort continued smugly. "We killed the rest but Mulciber and Lucius said you harboured a strangle obsession for this little one. I have to say I don't quite understand the appeal of a filthy Mudblood but I realised we hadn't gotten you a welcoming present and who are we to pass judgement."
The room erupted into malicious laughter and Snape felt sick. This was it. This was what they were going to make him do. They were going to make him kill her. Well, there was no way he was going to let her be killed while he was still breathing. They would have to kill him first. And then what would they do to her? His mind was ticking over a million miles a minute but he couldn't think of way out for her.
He looked up and saw they were all looking at him expectantly.
"You don't like your gift, Severus?"
"No, I do – I – I just don't understand, my lord."
"Fuck the filthy Mudblood," some of the Death Eaters cheered. His stomach turned.
"I…I don't want to."
"If you don't want her, I'll have her," Yaxley boomed yanking Lily up by the hair. Blinded with rage Snape reached for his wand.
"Silence, Yaxley," Voldemort said holding a hand up. "If Severus doesn't want her, I'll simply dispose of her." He pointed his wand at her and Snape stood up hurriedly, knocking over his chair in haste.
"No! No! I will, I will."
Bellatrix cackled a shot her wand at Lily so ropes appeared to bound and gag her tightly.
I'm sorry, Lily, Snape thought as he shoved her forwards slightly so she fell forwards against the table with a tearful gasp. He didn't want to see her face, make this intimate or make it anything other than what it was – rape.
He had never hated himself more – not even when he had called her a Mudblood in an angry outburst – than when he unbuttoned his pants with shaky hands and forced her thighs apart with his knees and slid her underwear down her legs to her ankles. He knew his Lily, her body, her preferences, her desires from their first time as teenagers. He knew that there was nothing about this that she enjoyed and he knew that she wasn't ready for him. He knew that her moans stemmed from pain and fear rather than pleasure and he felt tears burning in the back of his eyes as he watched her small cloaked body contort against him.
The Death Eaters saw her pain and enjoyed it. Jeering and cheering drunkenly. Someone shot the Cruciatus curse at her and her head snapped backwards and her cry was cut short as the gag plunged into her throat. Snape tried to be quick, to get it over with as soon as he could but the Death Eaters slowed him with their torture. He wanted to die. He was torturing her, humiliating her, choking her, forcing his way inside of her – how many ways could he hurt her at once? He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to focus on his own body. After what seemed like an eternity, he was able to release himself. He sighed in relief and opened his eyes only to realise Lily couldn't breathe.
He spun her around to face him, ripped the gag from her mouth and shook her frantically to no avail. "Breathe, breathe, breathe," he urged the struggling girl and realised that it was probably a spell. "Stop, please," he begged the crowd. "She can't breathe."
Bellatrix turned out to be the culprit with her wand still pointed at the girl. She watched in amazement and sick entertainment as Lily's face turned red, then blue. Her half-closed eyes began to falter and Snape couldn't obey any longer and murmured the counter-curse. Lily fell against the table and gasped and coughed for air. He could see the terror in her eyes when she saw him and his heart sank even lower.
"Get rid of her now, Severus," Voldemort said bored but pleased that his newest recruit had complied. Snape tried to bring Lily to her feet but she could barely walk – he had no idea what kind of injuries they had given her before. He carried her to the bathroom and she fought weakly before passing out in his arms. He sat her up against the edge of the tub and tried to keep her conscious while he worked over her with his wand. He cleaned the cuts and bruises over her face and arms. He suspected she had some broken ribs but she would have to take Skele-Gro for those. Snape cursed to the heavens and wanted to get his unworthy hands off this beautiful, pure, broken girl. "I'm so sorry, Lily," he sobbed into her hair. "They would've killed you. I'm so sorry. I love you, I do."
Snape apparated them to St Mungo's. Luckily, the corridor was empty and he laid her on a free stretcher. "You're safe now, Lily," he said stroking her hair from her forehead. Potter, if he wasn't killed, would be frantically searching for her. Snape hated him even more. He should've kept her safe. When he saw a nurse walking over to them he apparated back to his home where he sobbed uncontrollably all night.
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